100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids Chapter 337 - 336- Move of Army

The letter had ’nad her’. Had predicted her arrival. Had described the exact circumstances of this conversation down to Baron Hartfield’s execution and her dismissal of Count Redwood’s sanity.

It was impossible.

Unless—

’Unless Viktor could actually see the future.’

Celeste’s mind raced.

She thought back to everything she knew about Viktor. The fat, lazy Son who spent his days buried in books. The disappointing heir who’d never shown aptitude for swordplay or politics. The boy who’d been banished in disgrace just weeks ago.

That Viktor?

’That’ Viktor had orchestrated all of this?

Her eyes scanned the letters again. Not reading in detail—she’d already morized the contents. But processing. Connecting dots.

Viktor had known about the internal feuds between noble houses. Feuds that were buried so deep even the Ktorian intelligence network struggled to track them.

He’d known about the other duchies. About their movents, their alliances, their secret etings that took place behind closed doors in the capital.

He’d known about internal politics that should have been impossible for a border-county noble’s Son to access.

And the scale of it...

’’Three duchies moving together, purchasing mines...’’

Celeste’s breath hitched.

She’d been ’aware’ of that. Vaguely. The Ktorian intelligence reports had ntioned unusual activity—multiple duchies suddenly interested in tal mines. Fighting over a single iron deposit in the eastern territories.

It had seed like standard noble posturing. Competition for resources.

But the letters explained it differently.

’’They’re distracting people. The mine disputes are theater. While everyone watches that spectacle, they’re secretly buying illegal weapons. Killing officials. Replacing them with their own people.’’

Celeste’s hands tightened further. The parchnt crinkled.

’’They’re waiting.’’

Waiting for what?

The next passage answered.

’’The king’s death.’’

Her blood ran cold.

’’His health is deteriorating. They know he won’t last the year. Once he falls, they’ll move. The kingdom will fracture.’’

No.

’No.’

That was—

But even as she tried to deny it, pieces clicked into place in her mind.

The king ’had’ been ill. Everyone at court knew it. But the royal physicians insisted it was manageable. Temporary. Nothing life-threatening.

Yet the duchies had been acting strange lately. More aggressive. More coordinated. Like sharks circling wounded prey.

She’d dismissed it as coincidence.

But what if it wasn’t?

What if Viktor was ’right’?

What if the kingdom really was about to—

Her eyes snapped to another section.

’’Internal changes happening on a massive level.’’

Viktor had described specific officials being replaced. Nas. Positions. Dates.

Celeste knew so of those nas.

Had worked with so of them.

And thinking back... yes. There ’had’ been changes recently. Retirents. Sudden resignations. New appointnts that seed odd but not overtly suspicious.

But all together, following the pattern Viktor described...

’"This is too much."’

The thought escaped as a whisper.

Celeste’s mind spun.

How could one kid—one ’nineteen-year-old’ kid stuck in a border county—know all of this?

Even she didn’t have access to this level of detail. And she was the eldest daughter of Duke Ktorian, commander of an elite knight division, with direct connections to the royal court.

Yet Viktor had painted a picture so comprehensive, so ’precise’, that it was impossible to dismiss.

Unless he really could see the future.

Her eyes moved to the final letter.

The one that had made her blood freeze.

She read the passage again.

And her hands started shaking.

Not from fear.

From shock.

Pure, unfiltered shock.

’’I don’t need your help.’’

Five words.

Five simple words that carried impossible weight.

Viktor—a banished nobleman’s Son with no army, no resources, no political backing—was telling the Ktorian Duchy, one of the four most powerful families in the kingdom...

’He didn’t need them.’

The audacity was breathtaking.

But the next line—

Celeste’s vision blurred slightly as she read it for the third ti.

’’I simply want you to wait for in the capital when I co there to heal the king as the new saint of the divinity.’’

Her mind... stopped.

Just—

’Stopped.’

Saint of the divinity.

Saint. Of. The. Divinity.

That wasn’t—

You couldn’t just—

Sainthood was ’earned’. Granted by the church after years—sotis ’decades’—of proving divine favor. Performing miracles. Demonstrating unquestionable purity and connection to the gods.

And Viktor—

’Fat, lazy, book-reading Viktor’—

Was claiming he’d beco a saint?

And not just any saint.

He was going to ’heal the king’.

The king whose illness was being kept secret. Whose condition was known only to the highest echelons of nobility and royal physicians.

Viktor knew about it.

And claid he could cure it.

As a saint.

Celeste’s head lifted.

Her grey eyes were wide. Pupils dilated. Face pale.

She stared at Count Redwood.

And spoke in a voice that cracked with disbelief.

"What the hell is this kid?"

Count Redwood said nothing.

"Are you kidding ?" Celeste’s voice pitched higher. The letters crumpled in her grip. "Is this that sa child? The one who used to be aloof here and there, reading books? The fat boy who never showed interest in politics or combat or ’anything’ practical?"

She gestured wildly with the letters, parchnt fluttering.

"’That’ Viktor wrote this? ’That’ Viktor can see the future? ’That’ Viktor is going to beco a saint and heal the king?"

Her voice rose to nearly a shout by the end.

Count Redwood t her gaze.

Held it.

And spoke two sentences.

"I don’t know," he said quietly. "But he is definitely the sa."

Silence crashed down.

Celeste stared at him.

Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

No words ca out.

Behind her, the knights remained frozen. Statues in armor. Every single one processing the implications of what they’d just heard.

Future sight.

Sainthood.

A conspiracy to divide the kingdom.

And Viktor—’Viktor Redwood’—at the center of it all.

Celeste’s eyes drifted away from Count Redwood.

Toward the window.

The morning light was growing stronger now, pale gold streaming through the gaps in the curtains. Outside, birds chirped. The world continued as normal.

But nothing felt normal anymore.

Her mind churned through logistics.

Millbrook.

Viktor had been banished to Millbrook village on the border territories. Remote. Isolated. Weeks of travel from the capital.

How long would it take to reach him?

She turned sharply.

"Captain," she addressed the lead knight without looking at him. Her voice had shifted—no longer shocked, but commanding. Decisive. "How much days will it take for all of our cavalries to head to the Millbrook?"

The knight straightened imdiately. "If we were going alone, it would have taken one to two days."

"But?"

"But with the mbers and the carriages..." He paused, calculating. "It will take at least one week, Commander."

One week.

Celeste’s jaw clenched.

Seven days to reach Millbrook with their full contingent. They’d need supplies. Rest stops. The roads through Redwood territory were decent near the county capital, but deteriorated the further you went toward the border.

Her mind did the math.

Viktor had been banished three weeks ago.

One week to reach Millbrook.

That ant...

"So it will be four weeks since banishnt of that kid the mont I arrived there."

She spoke the words aloud. Not a question. A statent.

Four weeks.

An entire month since Viktor had been cast out.

What had he been doing all that ti?

If the letters were accurate—if Viktor really could see the future—then he’d known this was coming. Had ’planned’ for it.

Which ant...

’What else has he prepared?’

The thought sent a chill down her spine.

Celeste turned.

Faced Count Redwood fully.

And spoke with absolute finality.

"We all are heading towards the Millbrook."

The words rang through the chamber.

Every knight snapped to attention. No one questioned. No one hesitated.

When Commander Celeste gave an order, you ’obeyed’.

Count Redwood’s eyebrow lifted slightly. "There is no reason for you to visit personally. Send a delegation. You have duties at the—"

"No."

The word cut through his protest like a blade.

Celeste stepped forward. Close enough that Count Redwood could see the intensity burning in her grey eyes.

"I want to et that kid myself," she said quietly. Dangerously.

Her hand moved—lifting one of the crumpled letters between them.

"If Viktor can truly see the future... if he knows about the kingdom’s division... if he’s going to beco a saint..."

She paused.

Her lips curved into sothing that wasn’t quite a smile. More like a predator baring teeth.

"Then I need to see how precious he is."

Count Redwood’s expression didn’t change.

Celeste’s smile widened.

"I need to see," she continued, voice dropping to nearly a whisper, "if he could satisfy or not."

The words hung in the air.

Loaded. Dangerous.

Not sexual—though there was an edge of that. But sothing deeper. More primal.

A challenge.

A test.

Viktor claid he could see the future. Claid he’d beco a saint. Claid he didn’t need the Ktorian family’s help.

Well then.

Celeste would see for herself.

Would look this boy in the eyes and ’judge’ whether he was a genuine prophet...

Or just an arrogant child playing with forces he didn’t understand.

And if it was the latter—

Her hand drifted to her sword hilt.

If it was the latter, she’d drag him back to the capital by his hair and beat so sense into him.

But if it was the forr...

’If Viktor really was what those letters claid...’

Then the Ktorian family had just gained the most valuable asset in the kingdom.

And Celeste would make damn sure no one else got their hands on him.

She turned on her heel.

Armor clinking with each step as she strode toward the door.

"Prepare the cavalries," she barked over her shoulder. "Full combat loadout. We leave at dawn tomorrow."

"Yes, Commander!"